


we could be stars, we could be rose gold

by startofamoment



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, figure skating AU, y'all made me do this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startofamoment/pseuds/startofamoment
Summary: “YIPPEE KI-SKATE, MOTHER– Uh–Nevermind.”The kids giggled as Jake cleared his throat loudly and motioned for all of them to gather around.“Listen up, everyone! Today, we’re going to be practicing your forward swizzles!”Technically, Amy didn’t have to come in on Saturday mornings. All her on-ice coaching sessions were during the week, and weekends were meant to be for analyzing training videos and coordinating with choreographers. Still, there was just something about seeing him with all his helmet-clad students that made her want to keep giving up her one chance to sleep in.





	we could be stars, we could be rose gold

**Author's Note:**

> LISTEN. I've thought about this AU maybe once every 12 days since the Olympics, and I struggled A LOT between wanting to create it and thinking there was just absolutely no way Jake and Amy could be figure skaters. This fic was born in a moment of sheer weakness, in which I finally gave in to everyone telling me to just go write it. You'll find that it probably isn't what you expected out of a Figure Skating AU (spoiler: none of them are ice dancers), but I'm hoping you still enjoy it!
> 
> Infinite kudos to lawalks for the Die Hard pun in the summary.

She wasn’t meant to go out this way.

Reigning world champion Amy Santiago was meant to win three, maybe four, Olympic medals before transitioning to a renewed life of commentating or academics or _something_. Something that didn’t involve mandated bed rest or grueling physical therapy sessions or surgical scars that would surely remain on her skin forever.

The official announcement isn’t released until right before the beginning of the new season. By then, she’s been out of the hospital for months and out of the rink for even longer. The pain in her legs has dulled, now replaced by the same numbness that’s plagued her entire being since the surgeon initially broke the career-ending news.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s jaded and resentful when she gets her first visitor post-retirement. (First, not including her family or coach, that is.)

A resigned sigh leaves her lips at the sight of her biggest rival and training partner standing in the middle of her parents’ living room. “If you came here to gloat, Diaz, just– just don’t.”

Rosa’s mouth forms a thin line, jaw tensing, and Amy steeles herself for whatever scathing comment is to come.

“ _Amy_ , that’s not what I–” She exhales loudly and sets the bouquet of flowers down on the coffee table between them. “Listen, it’s crazy stupid this even happened. _You_ should be on that podium at Nationals and at the Grand Prix and at Worlds and at the Olympics.”

Amy scoffs and shakes her head, years worth of jealous glares and cold shoulders coming back to her. “You don’t actually think that.”

“Well, we _both_ should make podium so we can bring pride to our country and all that bullshit, but listen– I wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for you, Amy. I wouldn’t have worked so hard on my technique if you weren’t on the other end of the rink, trying to perfect your triple axel every damn day. Your scores are the only ones I watch in any competition, and you are the only one I’ve ever been okay coming second to.”

It’s quiet for a moment as the gravity of it all sinks in.

“ _Were_ ,” Amy says, finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“My scores _were_ the only ones you would watch in competitions. I _was_ the only one you’d be fine coming second to. It’s all in the past now.”

Another silent moment passes before the tears come. Rosa holds her as she sobs, muttering soothing words while gently stroking her back. It’s the first time she’s cried since the surgery.  

 

* * *

 

It all gets easier with time.

Amy eventually returns to the Ninety-Ninth Skating Club because she has nowhere else to go and because helping analyze Rosa’s triple landing is light years more interesting than listening to her brother Tony drone on about his latest boyfriend or girlfriend.

Her coach – _former_ coach – finds her sitting in the stands that afternoon, scribbling various comments into a notebook.

“Hello,” he greets her with a nod then takes a nearby seat.

“Ah, Coach Holt!” She smiles and starts leafing through her notes. “I was going to go up to you at the end of Rosa’s practice today, but I guess I can share my thoughts right now. Have you noticed that her jumps have been just a little bit off-axis the last few days? I haven’t actually done any video recording or anything to prove this, but I think that maybe this might be the issue and would explain some of the falls from earlier today. And also–”

“Amy.”

She looks up from her notebook and nearly shrivels under his gaze. Even now, after several years of training under him and despite her recent retirement, she’s stunned silent with a familiar mix of respect and fear.

He clears his throat and continues. “Have you given much thought into what comes next for you? Obviously, this premature exit from competition was unanticipated, but I do not imagine that someone as driven and goal-oriented as yourself would allow this to be a true end.”

“I, uh–” Truthfully, she _has_ thought about it but hasn’t yet reached a final decision. It’s weird to now have so many options available when such a large part of her young life was dedicated to one thing. Technically, she could decide to walk away from the skating world entirely. She could pursue Art History like her mother once suggested, or, _heck_ , enter the Academy and become a cop like her father.

“I am not expecting you to have any definite plans right now, but have you ever considered coaching?”

This question takes her by surprise, and she’d almost think it was a joke if this weren’t Raymond Holt himself. “Uhm... No?” Her voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else.

“One of my associates, Terry Jeffords, has been training a few junior skaters in Brooklyn. He is thinking of taking some time off to be with his family, and I think you would be an excellent interim coach. Mind you, these are skaters who likely will transfer into the Nine-Nine later on, and I am hoping you will help them continue to hone their technical skills before then. I really have no doubt you would thrive in this position, and I am sure the students will be ecstatic to learn from an athlete of your caliber.”

Pride swells in her chest at his glowing remarks. A part of her has to resist jumping up and breaking into her dorkiest dance moves. “Wow, Coach, I don’t know what to say.”

“Just think about it.” He reaches into his pocket and hands her a business card. “The rink that Jeffords coaches at is actually managed by one of my earliest students. I do not believe you have met him because he actually left the competitive circuit in his novice years, but I can vouch for his character and love of skating. Honestly, he would have been great if the stress of competing did not give him – quote, unquote – ‘tummy aches’ so often.”

She grins and runs her thumb over the letters on the card.

_NAKATOMI SKATE_

_Jake Peralta_

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!!! Find me on tumblr (@startofamoment) and come chat with me about B99, Jake/Amy, and AUs! ♥


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